appointed. We had not been driving about above ten minutes, but out
popped a little figure, pale but cross, with beard unshaved and hair
uncombed, a slouched hat, and a considerable red cloak, in which was
wrapped, under his arm, the fatal sword that was to revenge the highly
injured Mr. Martin, painter and defendant. I darted my head out of the
coach, just ready to say, "Your servant, Mr. Martin," and talk about the
architecture of the triumphal arch that was building there; but he would
not know me, and walked off. We left him to wait for an hour, to grow
very cold and very valiant the more it grew past the hour of
appointment. We were figuring all the poor creature's huddle of
thoughts, and confused hopes of victory or fame, of his unfinished
pictures, or his situation upon bouncing into the next world. You will
think us strange creatures; but 'twas a pleasant sight, as we knew the
poor painter was safe. I have thought of it since, and am inclined to
believe that nothing but two English could have been capable of such a
jaunt. I remember, 'twas reported in London, that the plague was at a
house in the city, and all the town went to see it.

I have this instant received your letter. Lord! I am glad I thought of
those parallel passages, since it made you translate them. 'Tis
excessively near the original; and yet, I don't know, 'tis very easy
too.--It snows here a little to-night, but it never lies but on the
mountains. Adieu!

Yours ever.

P.S.--What is the history of the theatres this winter?


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